


A Change of Heart

by krisnight_proxy



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: AU, Bleh :P, Sappy, a change of heart, the hunchback of notre dame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:39:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisnight_proxy/pseuds/krisnight_proxy
Summary: A Hunchback of Notre Dame AU where instead of just leaving Quasimodo in the church, he takes him home and grows attached instead of thinking of him as a pawn.





	A Change of Heart

Frollo isn’t sure when it happened, when he’d stopped hating gypsies. He’d hated gypsies as long as he can remember, having been taught that gypsies are evil and are a scourge on humanity, but things changed. He knows it wasn’t when he’d spilled gypsy blood for the smallest of offenses. What he felt guilty for now, he’d felt no remorse for before. He also knows it wasn’t when he first saw Quasimodo. The first time he saw his deformed face, he felt the overwhelming urge to throw him down a nearby well. In fact, he was so disgusted by the boy that he almost left him with the church, but something in him told him otherwise. While he was irrational and acting off the most basic of instincts, he decided to take the baby home with him.  
He’d then realized he had no idea how to take care of a human being, let alone one as small as this. He sought help from one of his chambermaids, whom he knew had a baby of her own, who agreed to breastfeed the baby. He insisted on being in the room as he was fed, but he refused to look at the endearing scene, too afraid to grow attached. He did permit himself to glance for a moment, noticing the happy look on the chambermaid's face as he fed. That was enough to spark something new inside, something he didn't recognize.

“If you need extra food,” Frollo cleared his throat, staring into the lit fireplace, “I can raise your pay.”

The woman looked surprised but happily accepted the offer. She asked if this included general care of the baby. Frollo surprised even himself that night by declining the subtle offer.  
The first few days were hard. He’d never even married, let alone had children, so he had no earthly idea what he was doing. He often went to the same chambermaid for help, who seemed happy to give advice on taking care of a baby. If figuring that out wasn’t frustrating enough, the Archdeacon came to his house a couple days later to check on Quasimodo. He was shocked to find Frollo sitting in a chair reading a book, rocking a crib with his foot while humming softly. Frollo was far too quick to snap his book shut and stop singing when the Archdeacon made his presence known. Quasimodo woke at the sharp sound and fussed, squirming in his crib. Frollo stood and cradled the baby in his arms, quickly silencing him with gentle cradling motions the Archdeacon didn’t think possible for the harsh man. Frollo quickly turned towards him.

“Why are you here?” he snapped in a condescending tone.

“I am here to make sure the child is properly taken care of,” he replied, “I can see he is… well.”

“The child is fine,” Frollo assured him quietly, “I vowed to care for him and that’s what I will do. Is there anything else?”

“No,” the Archdeacon bowed his head, “I apologize for bothering you. Have a good day.”

“And you as well,” Frollo sat back down into his chair, keeping the baby in his arms.

As the Archdeacon left, he stopped one of the maids to inquire about the child.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about Quasimodo sir,” she smiled, “Whether he’s realized it or not, he’s grown an attachment to the babe.”

He thanked her with a smile and a nod, his fears for the baby’s safety diminishing. Meanwhile, Frollo was looking down at the small bundle in his arms. Quasimodo cood up at him, his tiny hands reaching up towards his face. Frollo put a finger in his tiny palm, which was held tightly as the baby giggled. He couldn’t help but smile, he really couldn’t. For the first time in an oh-so-long time, Frollo felt love for a being other than himself, but he didn’t recognize it right away.  
At first he thought he was doing this as repayment for his sins, but as the weeks continued he felt something inside him changing, and he couldn’t say he hated it. It was a wonderful feeling that reminded him of his childhood; hugs and warmth and love. He spent every spare moment with Quasimodo and took him out for walks around town when he could, cradling him in his arms. He was given subtle looks from both gypsies and townspeople alike, since they’d not heard of Frollo ever adopting a child, but he ignored them. This wasn’t about him anymore. It was about the child. It was about Quasimodo.  
It was also at that point in time he began to feel guilt for all the things he’d done. He’d imprisoned and killed so many gypsies that he now realized were probably innocent of the crimes they’d been condemned of. He tried to rationalize it; ‘You didn’t know.’ ‘They were acting suspiciously.’ ‘Maybe he’s just an exception.’; but the more he did he realized how wrong he was. Frollo decided to go to Notre Dame Cathedral, leaving Quasimodo in the care of the chambermaid for a few hours. He confessed his sins and prayed for forgiveness. He then had an epiphany. He knew he had to change things. He knew he had to make things right. So, he started with something no one ever thought he would do; he left the gypsies alone, at least for the most part. Of course there would be some criminals that were gypsies, but he decided from that moment he wouldn’t pursue gypsies like he used to and treated them like everyone else. He turned over a new leaf, and people didn’t trust it. For the first couple years, most of the gypsies still hid and people avoided direct eye contact, but he paid no mind. When he wasn’t focused on his duties, he was completely focused on raising his new reason for living. Quasi was strong, very strong. He was strong enough to lift himself out of his crib and walk to the other side of the room when no one was looking at 9 months. He was smart too, learning to talk around 12 months. That was around the time he stopped taking him on walks. He was getting too big to carry, so they had to stop until he was stable enough to walk on his own.  
It only took one more year before he could walk on his own completely. The day they went out again Quasi was ecstatic, trying to run ahead while holding his ‘papa's’ hand. The scene was endearing, even if the child wasn’t exactly normal looking. That day is also the day Quasi gets his first memories of the church. He was loud and boisterous outside, but as he walked inside he grew very quiet, eyes wide and in awe. Frollo smiled down at him as the Archdeacon greeted him. The noon bells rang above them and Quasimodo asked to see them. He may have been too young to understand what they were for, but as he stared up at the bells, he knew immediately he wanted to ring them. They felt important, and he grew a strong gravitation toward them. This grew more apparent as he reached the age of 6, when he declared proudly he wanted to be a bell ringer. Frollo laughed, cheering him on and telling him to go for it. He started training when he was 8, giving him an even stronger body and a new sense of purpose. He never forgot to spend time with his father, of course, who always seemed lonely when Quasi wasn’t around. Besides, who else was going to school him?  
Frollo’s relationship with the gypsy people eventually began to improve.They gradually came out of hiding, avoiding Frollo when they could at first, but stopping when they noticed his genuinely friendly smile and warm wave. Even though the gypsies were thought to be so different, they mingled well with the townspeople who were glad to have the extra workers and optimism. By the time Quasi was 10 everyone in that portion of the city knew what had caused Frollo’s change of heart, so they treated the kid with kindness. It wasn’t hard really. He was a sweet little thing with a heart of gold who always stuck up for the weak and did what was right. He was also more than willing to lend a helping hand to those who needed it. Things seemed perfect, and though Frollo’s guilt got the better of him sometimes, he stayed positive and did his best for the people of the city. He went to more public events, gave money to the poor on the street, and helped restore public buildings that would sometimes burn or break due to accidents beyond anyone’s control. It felt like his life did a complete 360, and he felt blessed.  
Then, the most terrifying thing in Frollo’s entire life happened. When he was the young age of 16 Frollo's son learned about his past. Quasi came in distressed, not daring to yell at his father but still seething while tears ran down his face. He cried, saying harsh words he knew he didn’t mean but still said anyway, trying to understand how his father could have ever been such a cruel man, wanting to know why, why he didn’t just tell him.  
Frollo stayed quiet during the verbal assault. He didn’t make excuses, even though he could feel them rising to his throat by reflex. He simply sat with his head bowed, listening closely as tears sprung to his eyes. He knew this day would come, but he just wasn’t expecting it so soon. Who told him about his dark deeds? What did they tell him? He expected Quasimodo to leave the house and never return, but when his son asked him a question he wasn’t expecting, he looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Is it true? Am I not your son?”

Frollo didn’t know what to say. Yes, technically he wasn’t his biological father, but he’d taken care of him all his life and cared oh so deeply for him. He felt his heart throb as he searched for words.

“I-it’s… very hard to explain what happened,” Frollo said, “but I can tell you now that even though we may not be related by blood, I love you more than anything in the world,” he started to choke on tears, “I understand if you’re angry, and you want to leave…”

Quasimodo immediately shook his head, calling him an old fool and running to him to give him a warm embrace. He was still angry as all hell, but he still loved his father, and he knew his father loved him.  
As they sat down together in the very same room Frollo sat for hours in with baby Quasi, Frollo felt anxiety twist in his stomach. ‘Will he still want to stay if he found out I killed his real mother? What do I do if he leaves? He’s still so young…’  
Frollo did his best to explain the situation; what he’d done to his mother, how he’d almost ended Quasimodo’s life that night, and how he ended up taking him home. Quasi sat in silence, stunned. He couldn’t find anger at that point. He just… couldn’t believe it was true. Frollo sat with his head lowered, so his son couldn’t see his face, as well as vice versa. Frollo didn’t want to see it, the hate and anger on his son's precious face when his he decided to leave. Then, something amazing happened. Quasi forgave him. When he really thinks about it, Frollo isn’t surprised he forgave him so easily. He is a kind spirit after all, and he’d forgiven people for worse, but Quasimodo still has no idea how much that moment means to him, or how much he as a person means to him. Frollo cannot repay his son because of that specific reason. All he can do is thank God that he brought Quasi into his life, an angel rescued from the hands of death.


End file.
